Newspaper Page Text
J. W. BURKE & CO.
jeorgia Journal & Messenger,
' \V. MI KKE A C»„ Proprietors.
s. HONK. )_
hi tkh of simumo.i.
DAILY.
Xen dollars per annum.
~v e dollars tor six months.
r„„doll*™ and titty cents for three months.
‘ )ne dollar tor four months.
WEEKLY.
Xtiree dollars per annum.
‘ dollar and fifty cents for six months.
, me dollac for four months.
J. W. BURKE A CO.
WEDNESDAY, NOV. 4, 1868.
vK Checks. —A correspondent of the New
v - .hurwil us Commerce writes to the editor:
, B y lß —Checks dated on Sunday, coupons
. j ue 0 n Sunday, and ail kinds of commercial
,i. payable 'without grace and falling due
'ul'av- are" not payable until the Monday fol
' , aiitl a protest'of snch paper made on Salnr
not, according to the rulings of our
t , oind the drawer of a hill or the endorser of
‘ . lir t,in. Such was the opinion of the late
q, e Bronson, as expressed to a
Bank President.
\V relieve this lias not been the usage with us,
~ t ) ia t all paper falling due on Suuday is required
, aid on the Saturday previous. The editor of
hamal of Commerce agrees with his correspon
and cites an instance of an attempt made many
r ; a o.i to coerce the payment on Saturday of a
im ,,unt of maturing interest falling due on
; Uv an extreme pressure in tile money market
the reason for urging such anticipation of
and the arguments, drawn from the par
-1 puvment of commercial paper, being very
.j-ihle. The elfort failed, however, aud the
pie above stated was well established.
Ti,f editor of the same paper, in his money art!-
„f the 26th ult., having stated that “no check
.Id iie uet and until the day on which it is dated,”
an "Old Bank Teller” says :
I think you are in error. Banks consider a check
an order to pay money on demand without re
. |p, date. Payment could not be refused if the
’ k did not bear any date. The volume of busi
in our citv banks renders it impossible for
,-"tidier to read the date oi every check. 11c will
intentionally pay a check dated ahead ; but if
lute is overlooked in payment, and the party
thi amount to his credit, sucli cheek will he
~ ,i to his account as a draft ut sight, and the
i- k will hold the party responsible.
In order to prevent payment before a certain
, it i- necessary to specify in the body of the
i the day it is payable, it being dated tbe day it
-sued. A check thus drawn becomes payable on
t:„ day stated without (pace, and if not good, must
protested to hold indorsers.
Ile editor, however, holds to his original opin
n, and insists that a check post-dated cannot be
properly used until the date is reached. If a check
emulate, it is not post-dated, and the present
date may be properly assumed. A “bank would
not be severely censured if the teller should by
accident cash a post-dated check ; but an institu
tion was held liable for the payment of a protested
check, dated the 10th, and presented that day,
which mis marked “not good” 6imply because the
teller had applied the drawer’s funds to the pay
nt of a memo andum check dated the 30th. The
iser failed, mid the holder of the check sued the
,tik and recovered the money. An instrument
specifies in the body of the document a
n. day for payment, is not properly a cheek hut
draft. Memorandum checks, as they are
id, dated on the day when money Is to be rc
i are often given as a pledge for the return of
but they are not a proper security. The
k should lie dated when issued, and tiie lender
ild be held only by his word not to present it
until tbe day that the payment is promised.”
hie Journal of Commerce is high authority in all
mial matters, and we give its opinion for the
netit of our business commuuuy.
To Bk Abolitionized.—We judge f|om
the following extract from tbe inaugural
uddress of Dr. McCosh, the recently elect
ed President of Princeton College, that he
hu determined to do nil in his power to
i iliiionize it. We put the fact on record
for the benefit of the public. If it keeps
■ Southern youth away from its soon
to be desecrated walls, we sliull feel am
ply repaid :
"This college lias had a religious char
acter in times past, and I shall aim to have
this character continued. I would place
no theological professor over the college,
hut 1 would place the pure evangel of
Jesus Christ. All of the community,
whether white or black , whatever be his
political or religious views, should have
the privileges of this institution.” [Ap
plause. j
Wov ndkd.— Col. R. A. Wayne, formerly
of the Ist Ga. IJegulars, was severely
wounded on Tuesday, in Savannah, by
the accidental discharge of a pistol in the
hands of I)r. H’m. Duncan, whom he was
endeavoring to restrain from shooting a
uegro who had collared him.
Ihe Pointers VVareuouse—is now in full
1 ' : - and is at once an ornament as well as a
x-unrof much benefit to the city of Macon. It
bus much pleasure to learn that our friends,
os-i, Junes .v Reynolds, are doingngood busi
- they having already received from the Ist of
mber up to this time very nearly 7,000 bales
0 ucs crop. This would indicate that these
’ L >n H are general favorites with many of the
- rrsof Middle aud Southwestern Georgia.
‘ m a business point of view, there is no
II ” urie> more weight than that of Adams,
Reynolds. Having a most capacious
' • house for the storage of Cotton, with such
j judges and sellers of the staple as
" v Are Adams and Peyton Reynolds, with
b-mncial affairs under the personal supervi
'•'» us Mr. D. B. Jones, this firm ranks high in
oiumercial circles of Macon.
‘ their old friends we say, give them a call —
tll t * u>se unacquainted, we have but to say
■ I tind no more accommodating gentlemen
with than Adams, Jones & Reynolds.
a i.i.kd.—in the difficulty on Tuesday,
hu the Ogeechee road, near Savannah,
' aai l : s - Law, a son of lion. Witt Law,
l ' ''filed by the negro mob.
♦ «♦ ♦
esters Railroad.—lt will be seen by
■ an advertisement elsewhere that the
aid consolidation of the Southwestern aud
Railroads has been fully consummated.
' an excellent arrangement for both roads,
ensure the prosperity of the Muscogee
M\ing its stockholders the advantage of
its of the entire line of road.
i>ai abridge Argus reports very fa
a 3 of the sugar caue crop in that sec
•"n horse thieves were taken out of the
Kentucky,on Thurs
.‘.tst, and hung. The right kind of
for the disease.
‘oth&T' 8 ltter wr ’ ter > w h° saw Victoria
re fi'fiL. C | ly ; Says : " She is a little, dumpy,
tuvlng i, ! ' ’ dressed * u black, and
which inlk' Cr tye U ,lull sor£ of B leam >
asjdu ° n . e * uvoluntar *'y think of a
who mere ■ • ' dlere are inauy farmers
ante su, 'P ort themselves ami
iiiles av h ll>e of six acres,
in Uerwa, \ eaVy re,,t9 * Agricultur
:ive i'eres supp 0 r t o'' 0 proprietor* of
aiouey, u »eui se ives ami lay up
■' r °fefwor Mornv ,
'' lau ' informed’»ro ril ° qUiat and
Utah a * armiu gton aettle
'-'Ufcmeat '.j Ct °ker 2d, and Secession
K - v f or a!) ’:' The doorkeeper took, in
barw ! i0D ’ flour - wheat, corn,
''f Peach' e^B ' ut f er > molasses and
' *‘ a Were and all kinds of
■ e KKti re^f* v ®d at five cents per
&t 5" ’ a Ce uts per dozen, molas
-15 * a ‘ lon ’ Gutter 35 cents, and
Uke » | UtS <>ne ,uau wanted him
;■ f tseor 7 beelb * rr ° w of The
,Jlic kets U t "° gallon brass kettle for
£ B :, a9 kllled in Columbus,
fore the election.
R ~ = ~ ’ ============== *
DIRECT TRADE FOR EUROPE.
The good people of Charleston were
startled, most pleasantly, ou Friday morn
ing last, by the arrival in that harbor of
the first-class steamship “Golden Horn”
from Hartlepool, England, the pioneer of
the line betweeu Liverpool and Charles
ton. He: cargo bits already been engaged,
and she will leave for Liverpool on the
loth inst., soon* to he followed by the
“.Marmora” and “Bosphorus.”
Anticipating the early establishment of
the line between Bavannah and Liverpool,
it occurs to the Columbus Enquirer of Sat
urday to show the immense advantages
sure to result not alone to the cotton plant
ers. hut the Booth generally, from direct
trade with European markets, taking Fri
day’s quotations in New York and Liver
pool, and New York respectively, as a basis
of argument, in order to show the pecuni
ary advantages of such a policy. It will
be seen, says the Enquirer , that while our
Middling cottons are quoted in Liverpool
at lid., they are quoted in New York at
only 35c. —tbe Liverpool market having
been improving for several days of this
week, while no imptovement is disceina
hle in the New York market, i t is evi
dently the purpose of the “hears” of the
latter to keep down the prices as long as
they cau, in the hope of thus reacting upon
the advancing tendency of the foreign
markets.
Now let us compare the real values of
th'ese quotations, and see the true differ
ence. When gold is worth 134[, the
value of the greenback dollar is 75 cents.
The New York quotation, then, is 18i[c. in
gold. To the Liverpool quotation of lid.
(22c.) in gold, we must add the difference
in exchange betweeu American specie
funds and British sterling. This is usu
ally 8 to 9 per cent., say 2 cents to the
pound of cotton. Thus we have 24 cents
in American coin as the teal price in Liv
erpool of our middling cotton yesterday,
or 5} in gold more than the New York
price. The freight charge on cotton from
New York to Liverpool by steamer, as
quoted by the New York Times of the
24th inst., was §d. —we w^Jlsay, estimating
as much for insurance, that in gold
pays the entire cost of transportation be
tween New York and Liverpool. There
we have a plain showing of a loss to our
planters of 3ijc. in gold (about sc. in cur
rency) on each pound of cotton shipped to
New York instead of Liverpool.
We bear in mind the fact that it takes a
rather better description of cotton to rate
as “Middling” in New York than that so
rated in Liverpool. This makes the dif
ference still greater in favor of the latter
market, but it is so small that we take no
notice of it. It would probably cover
drayage.
It may be said that cotton would this
week have probably advanced a little in
the New Yoik market (say \ to lc.) in re
sponse to the Liverpool market, hut for
the fact that gold has been declining.
This is only another argument in favor of
direct trade with Liverpool. Our great
staple is too much uuder the control of
New York commercial gamblers—too
much affected by their swindling opera
tions for advancing or lowering the value
of the currency of the country. The
Southern people, in their struggle to re
gain prosperity, need stability in the eur
<• - - .—V. :„1. -.’ll .u .
that brings them much money. This they
can secure, as well as much better prices,
by establishing a direct trade with Europe;
aud they would also gain largely by a
trade that would enable them to purchase
in Europe, at lower prices than at present,
many commodities now bought in our
Northern States*-
P. S. —The above article was written for
our paper of yesterday, hut could not
appear then. By reference to later dis
patches the reader will see to what a small
extent (if at all) it has been affected by
yesterday’s quotations.
EXCITEMENT IN THE LAND MARKET.
During the last few days, several plan
tations and farms have changed hands at
prices ranging from six to nine dollais
per acre. While this is a good indication
of returning prosperity, we would warn
our friends not to sacrifice their lands.
Mark our prediction, these very lands
will bring from twenty to twenty-five
dollars per acre in two years. What is
there for our people to invest their sur
plus money in, that will pay half as well
as our cotton lauds? If your lands are
valueless, so are your Bail Koad Stocks,
town property and mercantile interest.
Our poorest lands will produce one bale
of cotton, worth upwards of SIOO 00, to
four acres; our best lands will make a
bale to two acres; these lauds are now
bringing only from six to nine dollars per
acre. Admitting that it cost twelve dol
lars and fifty ceuts to cultivate an acre of
land, and that it takes four acres to make
a bale of cotton, even then the land will
pay for itself the first year. Suppose it
would take tnree years of constant atten
tion to your farming interests to secure
you a good plantation of one thousand
acres. What other country in the world
is there where you can do half so well?
Again we would say don’t sacrifice your
lands. If you sell reinvest without delay,
and go to work energetically on your
farms and in a few years you will not feel
any of the losses sustained by the war
Sumter Republican, 2 d.
On a certain day a great muster was to
come oll'at some tavern in the county of
Henrico, Va., and of course a cockfight or
two. At the appointed time, a great many
persons were present, and among them
Mr. M., a gentleman of the real old stripe,
who made a few ten dollar bets on the
cockfights, and lost every one. He was
commenting on his bad luck, when Old
Ned was seen approaching with a large
bag thrown over his shoulder.
“Halloo, Ned, what have you got there ?”
“Fust rate cock, Massa M.”
“Game, Ned ?”
“Oh, yes; game as a panther, Massa M.”
“Out with him, Ned ; out with him.”
And Ned drew forth a large speckled
cock which, to judge by his size, was a
perfect bruiser.
“What’s the price, Ned?”
“Five dollars, Massa, au’ cheap at dat,
an’ if any cock on dis ground kill dis cock,
I gim you back de moSiey.”
The bargain was accordingly struck, and
the match made rightaway. M. bet about
the amount he had already lost, aud the
cocks were put iu the ring.
At the first touch of the steel, old Ned's
cock gave a most awful squall, and took a
strong wing for the woods. M was furi
ous, while the crowd laughed—fairly
screamed, with the eujoymeut of the fun,
Old Ned was accordingly hauled up, with
the application of some pretty hard epi
thets.
“Didn’t I tell you, Massa M says Ned,
“if auy cock here kill dat cock, I give you
back de five dollars? Butdey got toeoteh
him fus ; an I ueber see any cock outrun
£ld Skewball in all my life. Ya! ya!”
M. wanted to be very angry, but it was
no go ; his anger was choked down by tlie
uproarious laughter of the crowd that met
him on every side, and he was forced to
enjoy it as a capital joke.
Good for a Freedman, or any Other
Man. — We understand that a Freedman
in ibis county, who, by his industry and
economy, had saved three hundred dol
lars, rented, in March last, seventy-live
acres of land which he planted in cottou,
and succeeded iu cultivating it with two
old horses purchased at seveuty-live dol
lars each. Asa reward for his labor he
will gather twenty-five bales of cotton,
worth twenty-five hundred dollars. Let
town loafers and idlers, white and black,
imitate his example
[Sumter Republican , 2 d.
* l *^~ n o ,, -An Explanation VVan.eS.
the r'nmi‘m ,U £ fron , l a receDt number of
wort nfV’a lIJe * /< 2“ r ?«L we recognize as the
work of George D. Prentice :
c ”uple of years ago, while going from
S" « were aUrXd h !and h s2"
rant of astronomy as not to know w-"at
I^was' 1 Uaß ' NVe .. thoUght Uto be Jupiter,
it Has so exceedingly large and l»riirht
hat we could hardly belief H at firs?to
be a star but thought that it might be a
burning balloon. We continued to look
cou * £autl >' ’hiring our walk
, in at length, turning away our eves for a
ew moments and then looking up again
e saw nothing where it had been h ul 1
ti me bUe • Bky - We st °PP*‘l and con
the n irl 1,1 utler astonishment upon
J? w " here 11 1151,1 Lid
i a ftvv moments it came out from the
unshadowed sky as large and glorious a- j
w hen we first beheld it. We fixed our
eyes upon it, and after awhile it again
aud lß mfi’ ,anil tiie I,r, . ,ce *s was verysuiiden
ser'L, 1L CK a < ? ccu l , 3' lu K than two
YvL iLV ,^ gaiu 11 reappeared as before. I
v\e beheld its successive disappearance
anil reappearance repeated three or four
times. When it was visible, there would
>e a strange hue upon the sky where it
Dud disappeared, bearing no resemblance
w batever to a cloud, but a wan, weird
ghastly, and deathlike hue, so faint as to
be searceiy perceptible, aud apparently
some five or six feet in diameter. It wL,
> tne eye what the soul-likc murmur of a
pine in alow wind is to the ear. It sug
gested to us the saucy of Die -Giost of a
Honl' ri f h* s . l,a(1 l ow brooding over the lost
sf>ul of the dead star. We returned to our
office and wrote a brief description of the 1
phenomenon, requesting that someone of '
our scientific friends would send us au
explanation of it, but we received nothing 1
upon the subject. 8
week °r so ago, about 9 o’clock at
’ ° U m • fne,lU Areher iiud ourselves
were walking up Walnut street, when we
beheld in tiie east a great bright planet
evidently the same That we had seen a
couple of years before, though not so large
and hnght as then. We called our friend’s
attention to it, and, as it was a remarka
ble object, both of us stopped to look at it,
the sky being as blue and clear a sky as
ever bent over the earth. We had not
looked more than eight or ten seconds
when U vanished just as we had before
seen it vanish. Our friend was greatly
surprised and suggested that there must
certainly be some invisible cloud there
but we recognized the same pale, livid’
mysterious and ghostly appearance that
w e had so long and so vividly remember
ed, and we knew that there was no cloud
there, visible or invisible. Soon the star
came forth in all its brilliancy. Our friend
and oui selves waited to see it disappear,
as it did several times, and, at each disap
pt arauce, the phenomenon of the spectral
apparition was the same. We were dis
posed again to request through our paper
a solution of what so much perplexed us
but we did not. ’
Last Tuesday night, at about the hour
ot nine, we were returning home with our
little grandson seven years old, and beheld
the same planet, apparently diminished
nearly one-half in size aud brilliancy
since we had looked at it with Dr. Archer
though still larger and more lustrous than
any other star visible in tbe heavens.
Meeting a literary and scientific friend
we pointed the star out to him, and told
him what we had seen. He thought it
exceedingly strange and wholly unac
ouunlable. The little boy’s curiosity was
excited, and, taking our band, he looked
constantly at the bright object on the way
homeward. Just as we ariived at our
gate, he exclaimed excitedly, “ Oh, grand
pa, the star has gone out again.” We
gazed upward, and it was indeed gone
\V e and the tittle fellow watched fifteen
or twenty minutes, and saw it go out and
come back at least a dozen times. When
ever it could not be seen, the lurid, pallid,
spirit-like apparition that we have spoken
of was visible. Several times tbe planet
merest point that the eye corn'd possibly
detect, and then it would suddenly resume
its brightness, but generally it vanished
altogether.
Now, this may be a phenomenon famil
iar to one-halfof the intelligent men of all
communities, but we have not talked with
any one that ever witnessed it. If we
ought to be ashamed of our ignorance, we
will thank any friend who will remove it.
* ♦-
FORREST.
The General Gets after the Meanest Man in Anier
iea—The Fellow Kilpatrick Renounced as a Pol
troon, a Liar, and a Scoundrel.
Memphis, October, 28, 1868.
H. K Shackleford, Esq , New Haven, Connecticut:
Bir— Tiie false and mendacious repre
sentation of me, made by General Judson
Kilpatrick, of New Haven, ou tbe 20th
instant, to which you call my attention, is
not tHe first in which he has indulged
since his appearance on the hustings in
this canvass. I understand he freely em
ployed his criminal capacity for ribald
invention in all of the speeches he has
made since his return to this country, and
that I have been the objective point of
many of his unprincipled and indecent
libels. The Northern masses have been
so prone to misunderstand any appearance
that I have made in tlie present campaign
that I have ber-n content, heretofore, to
forego any notice of General Kilpatrick’s
inventions with reference to myself, and
to trust that some future and more auspic
ious time would afford me an apportunity
of stripping the imposter and of exposing
him, tiie base conterfeit lieis, to the con
tempt of all just and fair-minded people.
My forbearance, however, is construed by
him as a license to additional and more
slandertus detraction, and lam constrain
ed to notice his New Haven speech, as it
appeared in the Register, of October 21,
1868. 111 that speech he is reported as say
iug that “Forrest had nailed negroes to
fences, set fire to the feuces and burned
the negroes to death.”
This charge is but the natural offspring
of Kilpatrick’s common and merited fame
as an unprincipled aud easy liar. It is
enough for me to say, iu which I feel I
will be believed and sustained by every
chivalric officer and soldier of the Feder
al army, that what he has said of me in
the speech referred to is the culmination
of slanderous falsehood, rendered the more
odious that it is deliberately froged for
etl'ect upon the unthinking and too con
fiding portion of the people of the North,
whose votes he intends to steal by such
criminal anil disreputableinvention. All
such reports, whether emanating from
this creature Kilpatrick, or from any one
else, which tend in any way to create the
impression that I conducted my humble
part in the war upon auy other than the
strickest principles of civilized warfare,
are uttqjlv untrue, aud are the corrupt
and feculent fictions of designing and ras
cally slanderers. I am not prone to ob
trude matters of this kind upon the public
uotiee, and would have been glad to have
met Kilpatrick and settled their affair in a
less public and more emphatic manner ;
and if it should happen that this note
should meet his eye, aud he should make
it the provocation of any additional dis
play of words, any one who may hear him
is at liberty to assure him that I am ready
to meet him iu any way that he may
choose, and whilst I am adverse to per
sonal conflict I should much prefer to
gratify auy wish he may cherish iu that
way to being the further subject of his
unmanly defamation and uusoldier-like
mis re prese 11 ta tio u.
I think the public will justify me in de
nouncing, as I do, General Judson Kilpat
rick as a blackguard, a liar, a scoundrel
and poltroon. If he is the heroic figure he
would have the Northern people believe
him, my friend. General Bazil VY. Duke,
at Louisville, Kentucky, is authorized to
receive on my behalf any communication
he may choose to make.
Respectfully, N. B. Forrest.
Neoko Jury.— At Talladega Court, in
the State of Alabama, a few days ago, a
regular black jury was empanueled. Here
is the result as described by a party pres
ent :
There were about fifteen negroes tried
for various offences, each one of whom, on
his trial, demanded a white jury, aud
every one of them was acquitted except
one, aud his punishment was light.
The colored jurors sat in their box from
Monday morning until Saturday night,
without having a single case submitted to
them. —Columbus Sun, 1 stinst.
MACON, GA., TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 10, 1868.
I From the Savannah News ]
SAVANNAH, AN NEKA UV GENERAL GEORGE
WASHINGTON IN 1791.
1 he “ Southern tour ” made by General
: »ashiugton in 1791 has beeu mentioned
i often by his biographers, but none of those
i who have mentioned it have done more
than to refer to it During his tour Gen
eral Washington kept a diary, which for
tunately has been saved and now appears
in book form, edited by Mr. Bens m J.
Lossiug. Monday night, as stated bv the
Sews and Ilerahl, Mr. W. S. Bogart en
tertained the Georgia Historical Society
by reading extracts from the book. Tbe
account ot the General’s visit to Savan
nah appears in the book, and as it is of in
terest, we publish it, only writing «>ut the
anhreviations:
ot 16 £ J euera ' •‘‘ft Philadelphia on the
-Ist of March, 1791, to make the trip, and
after visiting all of the principal cities
along the route, arrived at Purisburg, in
South Larolina, on Hie 19th of May of the
same year. [Purisburg is about thirty
miles from here j “ Here I was met by
Messrs. H. WmiOerly Jones, Col. Joseph
Habersham, Mr. John Houston, General
Dochlin Mclutosh, and Mr. Joseph Clay
a committee from the city of Savannah to
conduct me thither. Boats were also or
dered there by them for my accommoda
tion, among which was a handsome eight
oared barge, rowed by eight American I
e.iptams, attended. In my way down the
river I called upon Mrs. Greene, the wid
ow of the deceased General Greene, at a
place called Mulberry Grove, and asked
her how she did At this place (two
miles from Purisburg) my horses and car
riages were lauded, and had twelve miles
farther by land to Savanna. The wind
and tide both being against us, it was G
o clock befoie we reached the city, wuere
we were received under every demonstra
tion t Hat could be given of joy ami respect.
VVe were seven hours making the passage
which is often performed in four, though
in e ? ni Puled distance is fifteen miles
Ilium ns at night. [llluminations meant, i
1 was conducted by tiie Mayor and Ward
ens to very good lodgings, which had been
provided tor the occasion, aud partook of
f, publ !^ dl l luer gi ve » by the citizens at
.uLofree Booms. At Purisburg I parted
witli General Moultrie.
Dined with tbe Members
or the Cincinnati at a public dinner given
at the same place, and in the evenin'--
went to a dancing Assembly, at which
there were about one hundred well dressed
and handsome lad es.
. 14th of May—A little after 6 o’clock
in company with General Mclntosh, Gen
eral Wayne, the Mayor, and many others
(principle gentlemen of the city,) I visited
the city, aud the attack and defence of it
in the year 1779, under the combined
forces of France and tbe United States,
commanded by tiie Count de Estaing ami
General Lincoln. To form an opinion of
tne attack at this distance of time, and
the change which has taken place in the
appearance of the ground by the cutting
away of the woods, &c., is hardly to be
done with justice to the subject, especially
as there is remaining scarcely any of the
defences.
"Dined to-day with a number of the cit
izens (not less than 200) in an elegant
Bower erected for the occasion on the
bank ot tiie river below the town. In the
evening there was a tolerably good display
of fireworks. 1 J
Sunday, 15th of May —After mornin iir
service, and receiving a number of visi
tors from tbe most respectable ladies of
tbe place, (as was tbe case yesterday) I
set out for Augusta, escorted beyond the
limits of tiie city by most of the gentle
men in it, aud dining at Mulberry Grove
the seat of Mrs Greene, lodged at one
Spencer’s, distant 15 miles.
‘bavanuah stands upon what may be
called high ground for this country. It is
extremely sandy, which makes the walk
ing very disagreeable, and the houses un
comfortable in warm aud windy wea'her
as they are filled with dust whenevei best
happen. The town on three sides is sur
rounded with cultivated rice fields, which
have a rich and luxuriant appearance,
sand. lbe ; harbor is said to be very gv'Ajtq
and often filled with square rigged vessels,’
hut there is a bar below, over which only
vessels drawing not more than twelve feet
of water can be brought, except at spring
tide. The tide does not llow above twelve
or fourteen miles above the city, though
tiie river is swelled by it more than double
that distance. Bice and tobacco, (tbelast
of which is greatly increasing,) are tne
principal exports. Lumber and indigo
are also exported, but tiie latter is on rlie
decline, and it is supplanted by hemp and
cotton. Ship timber, viz: live oak and
cedar, is (and may be more so,) valuable
in the exportation ”
During the reading, Mr. Bogart stated
that the house in which Washington
lodged was (according to tradition) the
wooden house at tiie corner of Barnard
and President streets, on the eastern side
of the square. He further called the at
tention of the Society to the fact, that
Washington did not mention that lie was
received with a salute of artillery, when
at other places he always noticed that he
was received iu that way, and stated “that
the Chatham artillery did give a salute,
and he noticed it by afterwards sending
them two brass six-pounders, which the
company kept until 1864, when the guns
which were here fell into the hands of the
United Btates soldiers.
THE GRECIAN UE.MI ! !—A HOME INVENTION.
It is known apparently to but few per
sons that the Grecian Bend originated,
or was designed, not in New York, nor in
Paris, hut here iu Washiugton, Ga. The
inventor is au obscure person, but a very
woithyoneiu ber humble sphere ; a col
ored woman named Anake, once a slave
of Merrel P. Cutaway, and now living
upon the lot owned by him on Main
street, in this town. V» e have been ac
quainted with old Anake, who is now
quite old, hut hale aud hearty ; for many
years, aud since the emancipation we have
never seeu ,lier upon the street, in any
other costume than this of her own inven
tion. The history of the invention is sim
ply this. Auake, in the days of slavery,
being a faithful and esteemed servant of
her owners, had an easy life, and lared
well. Consequently, work was very hard
to herafter freedom came, audshe thrown
upon her own resources. Mr. Callaway
allowed her a piece of land to cultivate
however, and since she has, for three years
past, made her bread by bard work with
the hoe, aud earned her meat by laboring
over the wash tub. Under the pres
sure of hard times, her ingenuity led her
to devise this elegant and becoming style,
as one in which the posture of the body is
adapted to the burden of her work. She
is always in positiou for work at either
branch of her calling, and takes hold with
equal facility aud ease, either of the hoe
handle or the wash board, tso well pleas
ed is*this faithful aud honest old negro
with her invention, that she always ap
pears in costume, holding herself ready
for auy emergency.
Such ready adaptation of one’s self to
the necessities of these hard times is not
UsQal, and challenges our admiration.
Auake has accepted the situation in good
faith aud come down to her work in a
manner worthy the contemplation of
many who move above her in life. She
has beeu at no extra expense either in
providing herself with “ the bend ” since
ber equipment is likely to wear as long as
sbe lives.
Wbat sharp plagiarist has stolen the idea
of tlie humble old woman, we know not.
A-great uumberof strange characters have
passed through Washington, and seen her,
since the war. But so it is, that is in fact,
her own invention now being paiaied
abroad iu the earth, dressed up a little iu
ribbons aud pauuiers by those whose nat
ural formations forbid the adoption of pos
ture without these he’ps, and is chris
tened by these who stole it, the Grecian
Bend merely to hide its obscure origin.
Old Auake is the Mother of it.— Washing
ton (Ga.) Gazette.
The lowa Agricultural College, which
opens this month, receives pupils without
distinction of sex. While the young men
learn farming ttie young women learn to
cook and keep house.
A woman atone of the New York city
dispensaries applied for medical aid, sta
ting her disease to be flirtation of the
heart. “ Not an uncommon ailment with
your sex, ma’am,” said the doctor, with a
twinkle of the eye.
thi-RSDav, .voy) 5 ; ijiis.
GEORGIA ELECTION RETURNS.
At Bartow, Jefferson eouuty, at 3 P. M.
on luesday, the vote was Se‘vm ur 111 -
Grant 6. *
Pulaski county has covered herself with
?>ory. Hawkinsville gives 5G7 majority
for Seymour. The Demoeraiic majority
in the county is 771.
Covington gives 250 Democratic major-
Py; Conyers 490; Stone Mountain 221,
Decatur 220.
-Schley county gives 300 Democratic ma-
J ° nty - In Mitchell county nearly all the
votes polled were Democratic Sumter
county, l.oio Democratic majority. In
Dooly county only eight Radical'votes
polled. Houston, 800 Democratic major
ity ; Baker. 400 do; Dougherty, 1-50 do;
Randolph, SOOdo; Macon, 18 do; Terrell
700 do. ’
Jones county 423 Democratic, and not a
Radical vote polled in the county.
Jasper county 1,300 Democratic votes,
apti three Radical votes.
Richmond county gives about SOO Rad
ical Majority.
Cbsitbatn county between htK» am? 1,000
Democratic majority.
Imperfect returns show the following
majorities: Pike, Democratic maj. 226;
Lowndes, Dem. maj. 197; Harris, Dem.'
214 ; Catoosa, Dem. maj. 249; Floyd, Dem.
maj. 362; Newton, Dem. maj. 400; Fulton,
Dem. maj. 500; Cobb, Dem. maj. 398;
Whitfield, Dem. maj. 36; Thomas, Rep!
maj. 169; Decatur, Rep. maj. 130; Morgan
Rep. maj. 296; Clark, Rep 65.
Muscogee gives 500 Democratic majori
ty, and elects the Democratic countv
ticket. J
OFFICIAL VOTE OF 8188 COUNTY.
DEM. HAD.
R la ?. on \7 1.912 2,895
Rutland 118 0,000
Warrior 28
y azard 42 o,oob
Howard 9 (),000
To ta!..... 2,194 2,918
Radical majority, 724.
At the very lowest calculation, 500 of
this majority belongs in Twiggs, Jones,
Monroe, sud other counties, leaviug the
real negro majority in the eouuty about
two hundred.
general presentmenrs
PULASKI SUPERIOR COURT.>
Octobeh Term, 1868. /
'A e, tne Grand Jurors chosen and sworn for the
October term of the Superior Court of Pulaski
County, 18s«, beg leave to make the ioilowiu°-
geueral presentments :
W e have examined, through committees, the
hooks ot the Clerk of the Superior aud Inferior
Courts, and And them neatly and correctly kept.
We have also examined the books of the Ordinal
ry, and report them kept with their usual neat
ness. As Treasurer ot the Poor Sciiool Fund, the
Ordinary has received from the Tax Collector of
the oeuuty, for the year 1867, the sum of s3*7, and
paid $172 39, leaving a balance in his hands of
SIM 01. We also And on Ale in his office unpaid
accounts against said school fund to the amount
of $468 47.
UYou examination of the Treasurer’s books we
Ami that several errors have been made In the
entries and additions; at the same time, the
Grand Jury are of the opinion that these errors
are cierical rather than intentional. The amount
ot money received by the Treasurer up to date as
appears upon his bo ks, is $26,791 61; amount of
disbursements, $23,970 97. which, with commis
sions charged, 10-wit: $1,211 06, leaves a balance
due the county of $576 58. We And, however, in
tiie treasurer's hands, vouchers not yet entered
upon the books, to tiie amount of $Bl3 75, which
nnce-” I’nis*l°uson 1 ’ nis * l ° uson Bame - <2l 09,1 leaves a bal-
MV'CDooks also suuw i,um>u.. ..... .7.
paid over to the County Treasurer the sum oi
$19,581 86, aud that lie has received for the years
1860 and 1867, upon the best in formation that can
be obtained, the suin of $19,257. The receipts of
the Poor School Fund by the Tax Collector for
the same time amounts to $1,422 99, aud lie has
paid out the sum of $1,152 90, leaving still due to
said fund the sum of $270 00.
The Treasurer’s books show a balance due the
Tax Collector, on County fund, of $313 86 but an
error appears in an order passed by the Superior
Court, July Ist, 1868, allowing the Tax Collector
the sum of $59!) 00 —uncollected State and County
taxes as insolvent list—of which amount tiie sum
of $:99 3) alone should be credited to the Tax Col
lector on County Fund, .which would leave the
sum< f S3l 38 to his credit, and this amount de
ducted from t lie balance due by the Tax Collector
on the Poor School Fund would leave a balance
due by the Tax Collector to the county of 5238 64.
This unpaid balance we are satisfied would have
been collected and paid over but for the lact that
the Tax Collector has been prevented from col
lecting some of the taxes by the application of
parlies in bankruptcy, thereby postponing the
receipts of amounts due by them until appoint
ment of assignees.
The present indebtedness of the county we And
1 1 be $10,133 71.
VVe recommend that a tax of 109 per cent, ou
the stale tax be levied for the present year, for
county purp ses. aud if there be any surplus
over a:ter defraying the current expenses of the
county, that the same bo applied Arst to the pay
ment of interest upon said debt, aud then to out
standing orders pro rata, pre.fe rring those orders
upon which no money has beeu paid to those
which have alrea ly had credits placed upon
them.
We And the court house re quiring no immedi
ate repairs, but we recommend that glass be
placed in tbe windows, and locks upon the uoors
where needed.
ThejailweAnd very insecure, and requiring
a iditional saf-guards to prevent the escape of
prisoners. VVe recommend that iron liars be
u-e ! so- the outside doors in snch a mauneras to
mike the same a catch for the locks, and that
these bars ha secured by iron bolts extending
through the logi, aud clinched; and that iron
spikes bedr.ven in the logs around the windows
to prevent the removing of the bars.
We report the roads generallly, throughout the
county, as iu bad condition. In view of our dis
turbed political and social affairs, and the gen
eral neglect of other than individual interest,
we do not attach that blame to the Justices of the
Peace of the respective precincts, who are, by
special enactment, road commissioners in tills
county-, that they might do under other circum
stances; and yet we cannot but charge negligence
upon the officers having this portion of the coun
ty interest in hand, and therefore call their spe
cial attention to this matter in our general pre
sentments.
In relation to our county bridges, we find in
some of them great causes of complaint—of cul
pable negligence and disregard of public interest.
In concluding our general presentments, we
beg leave to congratulate onr citizens upon the
restoration of civil government and upon the
fact that our courts are once more enabled to dis
charge their functions without interference from
the military authorities. We have additional
reason for congratulation, however, in this Judi
cial Circuit, in view of the fact that the recent
appointment of Judge Alexander, to fill the office
so long and ably filled by his predecessor, Judge
Ilausell, hearliiy accords with the wishes of our
citizens, and relieves them from a painful anx.e
ty they were indulging in as to who should be
Judge Hanseil’s successor. His appointment
meets our warm approval, and we pledge him, in
advance, our earnest and active co-operation in
the suppression of crime and preservation of or
der, and cordial assistance in conducting the
business of our courts, in taking leave of his
Honor, we respectfully tender him onr expres
sions of warm personal regard, and extend to
him our thanks for the wise, able, and Impartial
manner in which he has conducted the business.
Congratulate g ourselves upon the reappoint
ment of our able and efficient Solicitor. W. B.
Bennett, we beg leave to present him renewed ex
pressions of confidence, and tender him our
thanks for his courtesy and urbanity to this
body.
We request that these presentments be pub
lished in the Journal and Messenger, of Ma
con, and tne Southern Leader, at Hawkinsville.
ORREN C. HORNE, Foreman.
2 Stephen - W. Brown, 12 Count P. Fleming,
;! John H. Pate. ISA. H. Bramblktt,
4 Jakes <>. Jelks. 11 a. R. Colev,
5 John W. Harrell, 15 K. B. Dykf-s,
6. Tyo.-i F. McCormick, 16 Patrick T. McGriff,
7 JiSIES 1.. Lamkin, i7 K. F. DeLamah,
S Wm. W. Hardy, 18 E. E Philips,
9 James Fleming, 19 Thos. King,
10 Jno. w. KozemaN; 2o Chan. E. Clarke,
11 Daniel Rawls, 2i Jas. L. Bryan.
The regular tobacco year closed iu Lou
isville on the 31st ult. During last year
29,508 hogsheads were sold, valued at
$3,686,637.
AT THE WINDOW.
i BY THE AUTHOR OF “JOHN HALIFAX, GKNTI.EM AX,"
Only to listen—listen and wait
For his slow Ann step down the gravel walk ;
to hear the click-click of his hud at the gate.
And feel every heart beat through careless talk.
Ah, love is sweet when life is voung !
And life and love are both so long.
Only to watch him about the room.
Lighting it up with his quiet smile.
I hat seems to lift the world out of gloom.
And bring heaven nearer un»—for a while,
A little while—since love is vonug.
And life is as beautiful as long.
Only to love him—uothiug more ;
Never a thought of hi^loving me;
Proud of him, glad in him. though lie bore
My heart to shipwreck on this smooth sea.
Love s faith sees only grief, not wrong,
And life is da ring when ’tis young.
Ay me ! what matter? The world goes round.
And bliss and bale are but outside tilings •
I never cau lose what in him I found, ’
rhough love be sorrow with half-grown wings;
And if love nil's when we are vouug,
5\ hy, life is still not long—not long.
And heaven is kind to the faithful heart;
Aud if wc are patient, aud brave, and calm.
Our fruits will last though our flowers depart ■
Some day, when I sleep with folded palm ’
No longer fair, no longer young.
Life may not seem so bitter long.
**■*#*
The tears dried up iu her shining eyes
Her parted lips took a suintlv peace:
His shadow across the doorway lies—
Will her doubts gather, darken—or cease »
55 hen hearts are pure, and- bold, and strong
True love as life itself is long.
THE OLD KEEPER’S STORY.
It was a quaint room in which I sat, with the
firelight dashing into each corner, and tiie stuffed
birds, foxes and pole cats looking life like in the
leaping blaze. A quaint cottage room, but the
essence of comfort. As I pulled at the stiff’ glass
of water and whiskey and puffed my meershaum,
I felt excessively comfortable. I was iu no hurry
to get my wet water boots dried, which lay steam
ing ou the ample hearth.
My temporary host sat opposite; a tine, athletic
old man, with snow-white hairaud whiskers. The
cut of his coat and tiie wary look ou his weather
beaten, houest face sufficiently told tiie ex-game
keeper, had not the retriever pup at his leet and
the gun behiud him -added evidence. A tine spec
imen of his class, lie was well-knit even at eighty
years of age, with a frank, cheery look in his eye
that told of straight-forwaid truth and worth.
I had b--en snipe shooting on some marshes I
rented of the lady of the matior, aud having got
soaked in a deep rivulet from a fall, had sought
shelter in the keeper’s cottage. To be a sportsman
was, to be sure, a passport to his favor, added (o
which his grandson, Tom, was my invariable at
tendant and bag carrier. The old man I had seen
but once, when on my renting the shooting from
Lady Lin wood, he, as her head keeper, had shown
me tiie boundaries. The great hall was closed, for
Lady Liuwood, a childless widow, lived perma
nently at Nice, and her fair es’ates were all let.
She was a widow of a poor Lieutenant Colonel
knigthed for gallant service, and had succeeded to
the property in lack of direct heirs.
Seamen, my host, was something more than head
keeper. Evidently lie had been one of those an
cient trusted servants to whom the honor and wel
fare of a family are dear as to its own members.
A nd by the sad look on his face whenever lie spoke
of the squires of Liuwood I fancied some portion
of the family history was mournful aud unhappy.
“Do you see much of Lady Linwood?” I asked.
“Never, sir. She always is abroad. And
there’s never been a Linwood hero since the last
squire died.”
“That was long ago?”
“Yes, sir, long ago. Five and forty years
agone, sir,” said he, musingly, his eyes fixed on the
fire. “Five and forty years agone—and like yes
terday.”
1 was interested. The keeper’s manner, action
and expression were all unlike his class, and I felt
a curiosity, as we all do when something tells us
of a hidden history.
‘•I suppose the last squire had a good stock of
game?” said I.
•‘Yes, sir. Hundreds of pheasants he turned
out—l was a youngster then—underkeeper— aud
I used to fetch all the sacks of barley to feed ’em."
“Aud was he much of a sporismau?”
‘jYeSt. sir. With the guu, rod and horse lie was
aut aud kind to tiie tenants, but with a fearful tem
per, if anything should go wrong. He’d rave, and
swear, and smash all around Him in the room when
lie was in one ofliis storms. The only person who
managed him was Miss Dora.”
Here the keeper became silent, and a look of
deep sadness came over bis rugged face.
* You’ll have to stay a longish time, sir, for your
things ate soaked. So, if you like to hear i‘, I’U
tell you the story. I suppose I’m like old meu,
sir, aud like to maunder," he added, with a smile
of natural dignity and courtesy, which might have
befitted a prince.
“Mr. George Linwood, live and forty years ago,
was tiie squire. Ue lived with his mother, a gen
tle lady. She was always on her sofa, and never
well, but kind as an angel to the poor. Miss Dora
Maitland, her niece, came to stay up at the Hall
wiih them. Her parents were very poor, and slic’d
six sisters; so they were glad—Miss Dora’s parents,
I mean—when Mrs. Linwood said she’d adopt her
as a daughter. I heard this, you know, from the
lady’s maid at the Hall, who was aiterward ray
wile. She died years ago." And the old man
sighed, and glanced at an empty chair near his
own.
‘‘Well sir,” he resumed ; “Miss Dora came, arid
Mrs. Linwood was very fond of her. So was
everybo ly, for she was so sweet and gentle, and
her voice was like a blackbird’s. Everybody about
the estate knew Miss Dora, and she used to go
about in her broad hat and carol her song, for all
the world like a blackbird in the holly. The cot
tagers used to know her, for whenever any one
was ill there Miss Dora was, petting and cosseting
them.
“So, sir,” resumed the old man after a pause,
“by-and-by Mr. George became lond of Miss Dora.
He used to follow her about and watch all her
wishes. He broke in a chestnut Ally himself, and
used to ride with her. But she seemed shy to him.
His temper was so shifty, and she heard his curses
once when he was bitterly angry, though he didn’t
know she was in hearing; and she seemed to
shrink from him. She was such a beauty—golden
hair, and eyes, sir, just like the sky on a clear day,
such a deep, clear blue, while her complexion the
village girls used to call roses and lilies. I’ve
heard it said that a great portrait painter came
down to paint her face, and showed it in London
as the greatest beauty he had seen anywhere.
“Mrs. Linwood, sir, the servants could all see
was very anxious about Mr. George. She’d mur
mur to herself for hours about him, and she was
always looking at him and Dora so wistful like, as
if she didn’t dare to say what was on her tongue.
So things went on, till one day a company of sol
diers marched into the village. The officer in
command was invited by Mr. Linwood to dine,
and he did so, but he didu’t see Mrs. Linwood nor
Miss Dora, for they were both in with colds, and
they stayed up stairs. The officer was a handsome
young man, with keen gray eyes and a quiet man
ner, and a look of real honesty about him, sir.
Mr. Linwood asked him to come when he could
get leave and shoot.
“Well, by and by he came—Captain Calton was
his name, and he wore the Water oo medal, for he
had been in the heat of that; and he came in late
one night after dressing, into the drawing room.
There were Mrs. Linwood and Miss Dora. The
Squire introduced him ; when suddenly the captain
grew very agitated and Miss Dora gave a little
shriek, and then looked so charming that half an
eye might see, Polly, my wife said, where her heart
was.
“The ’Squire didn't see this, and fortunately too,
for only the day before he’d asked Miss Dora to
marry him, and she, crying bitterly, had refused.
“The ’Squire went off wild duck shooting with
me, but he laid his gun down in the punt, and
kept staring sternly in the air, and muttering to
himself. You may guess, sir, that I held my
tongue.
“Well, sir, at dinner nothing much was said,
for Capton Calton seemed very silent, and so did
Miss Dora. The’Squire drank a good deal, and
talked about the shooting, but nowand then looked
at his cousin with such a wild eager look that made
her blush like a rose whenever he caught her eye.
“After dinner, when Polly »as putting some em
broidery away in the cabinet at the end of the
drawing room, she heard Miss Dora tell Mrs. Liu
wood enough to find out that Captain Calton wss
her old lover whom she had met at Bath with her
parents, and that they were to be married when
he got rich enough. Polly could not help hearing
it, sir ; all women are curious about lovers,” con
tinued the old man, smiling; “but she loved Miss
Dora with all her beart, and woudn’t have said a
word about it for the world.
“Several days went on, and the ’Squire and the
Captain went out shooting, and Dick Smith, the
headkeeper, used to go with them.
‘•One day Miss Dora came down in the little
pony carriage with the luncheon. The Squire was
just finishing the beat of a copse, but Captain Cal
ton was outside. When Miss Dora came up he
took her hand and kissed it. But I saw it, though
I wasn’t such a booby as to show myself. What
was worst, sir, the Squire saw it through the hazel
bushes, and her pretty face blushing and looking
happy.
“I heard him grind his teeth where I stood, and
whisper a curse. Did you ever hear one whispered,
sir ? It makes a man creep all over.
"Presently lie came out with a very jolly air,
anu alter lunch he drunk Miss Dora s health and
then the Captain’s. 1 was carrying the bag, and
the Squire spoke in a bluff sort of a wav. so 1 heard
all:
, ‘My cousin is a pretty girl,’ said he.
Yes, said Captain Gallon, nervously like, and I
cou and see his baud tremble.
Ah, well,’ said the Squire, heartily, ‘I used
to be jealous; fori always admired Dora, that I
did. But what's the use now J Never mind, old
I tallow, 1 wish you joy of her ; you must excuse
j my temper, it’s a devilish bad one ’
That was truer than he thought,” muttered the
old m-tti in usi’igh
"Captain Caltou answered hnu in a very friendly
way, and the matter seemed all right.
‘The Squire was in a dreadful temper tiie nex
morning with Dick at and me because we hadn’t killed
some stray dogs that had been driving the woods.
“He was very savage against poachers, and
swore lie and have the spring-guns set for their dogs
in the open runs of the copses.
“So matters went ou till just about Christmas,
when a large party of ilie neighbors of the Squire
came over to shoot under the pheasant covers.
“That day we had no peace. All the spring
guns were taken up; damaged raisins put in tiie
runs to toll the pheasants there, and tiie woods
were watched every night. On the night before
we met the Squire, who gave us a curse or two tor
ruuning against him as he came round the copse.
He’d beeu looking alter the raisius, he said, for he
was a good hand at seeing his orders carried out.
“The next day all the party went from the Hall
to the woods, only the Captain; lie loitered to have
' few words with Miss Dora Hi- drew her fcncU
into the hall and kissed her; aud I shall never
forgot the way she his hands and looked
into his eves, saying a word urjwo. Tiie Squire
saw iu and I saw his face. It was dreadful to see,
for lie had bitten his lower lip in two. He pre
tended not to see them, and walked on alter the
party.
“The Squire was very particular iu his shootiug
partios about every one going just as iio wanted
fcthem to. So now he gave every body their instruc
tion wiiere to go. And Captain Caltou he told to
take a ride, which was narrow and through hollies,
but a good one for woodcocks. Ho himself went
into tiie middle of tin* copse, with me, aud Dick
Smith beaded tiie beaters at the end.
“Well, sir, the beating began, and the pheasants
got up well, and there were several shots fired.
’Twas odd to me that tiie Squire never shot at any
thing, though, for all that, several birds went by
him. I didn’t dare to speak, though, for he look
ed so stern.
“By and by he turned and saw Captain Calton
in another part. He swore, but that 1 took no
notice of.
•“We’ll beat this wood again before lunch,’ lie
said; so of course we all came out after an hour or
two, during which the Squire missed everythiug.
We all went back to the wood again.”
Here the old keeper paused, and drew a deep
breath.
‘What's coming, sir?’’ ho said, “has never been
out of my mind siuce, day or night, tor fifty years,
I assure you.
‘Wo came back to tiie copse, and were all put
in our old position, and the Squire told the Captain
to take the holly ride again.
“‘I suppose Dora will be here soon with tiie
luncheon,’ he said with a laugh.
“ ‘Soon enough—soon enough, said the Squire,
with a dreadful sort of laugh, and his black eyes
gleaming like coals.
“The shooting went on, and suddenly a shot
, sounded from near the holly ride.
“ What’s that?' said the Squire, suddenly.
“ ‘Captain shota cock, sir, outside the copse,’
and Dick Smith, quietly winking at me, knew how
savage the Squire was at men changing positions.
“• ‘Here comes Miss Dors,’ said I, ‘she's going
through the holly ride.’
“ What,’ screamed the Squire, as ho wheeled
round and saw her. ‘Dora! Dora I not there!
Back! for heaven’s sake, back!'
“But she didn’t hear him, lor tho spaniels were
in full cry, and the beaters’ voices drowned the
Squire’s.
*• ‘Dora!’ lie screamed, sir—yes, that’s the word
—‘stop ? You’re ,
“Before lie got the word out thero was a little
report like a pistol—a wreath of blue smoko curl
ed upward from Miss Maitland’s feet, and she fell
—fed. with her pretty white dress all streaked on
the bosom with blood.
“Ah, sir,” said the old man, shuddering, “it
makes my heart cold even to think of it.
“I ran up and lifted her; she moaned once when
we raised her. Her sweet face was all white and
pinched with pain.
his breast; and hid ner poor ncau ..
was a tired chi and.
“The surgeon of the village was out with us.
He came up sir, as wo stood round rough fellows
as we wore, all sobbing ; he knelt down and looked
at the wound, aud then, sir, shook his head.
“Meanwhile the ’iSquiie was being held by two
men, cursing, swearing, and tearing the grass,
and cursing himself aud his birth, and calling on
somebody to blow his brains out, aud they dragged
him into the bushes so as not to be heard by the.
dying girl.
•‘She looked up at her lover once, and her sweet
blue eyes were all dim. Do you know the glaz
ing, filmy look that creeps over one dying from
gunshot wounds?
Ah, it is enougli to break one’s heart.
“She caught her breath several times. Her
lover kept his handkerchief over the wound, but it
did’ut bloed much outwardly; only you could see
her going; and she looked so beautiful, just like a
wax mask, sir, white as a lily.”
“‘Poor, poor Freddy 1’ she murmured, and put
her little hand on his heart.
“-My darling!’ lie said, and then he gave such a
sob that seemed to tear bis very heart up, sir.
“ ‘Kiss me, my own,' site saidas her beautiful,
dimming eyes, witli their last look of love, were
turned to his. ‘I can’t see—its all dark, but Tin
on your bosom, Freddy, dear —on your bosom—
love.”
“These words she murmured one by on ; and
then she gave a long sigh; and it was all over.
“He took her up, sir, with such an awful look of
grief on his face that he seemed turned to stone.
He’d let no one touch her, and lie carried her iu
his arms home.
“ ‘She said she was on my bosom,’ he said, in a
voice that you wouldn't have known for liis; and
then he walked on like a man in some dream.
‘•sVell, sir, there is no more to toll. The Squire
only lived two years, aud died in a mad house.
“He had set a spring gun in the ride, meaning
it for the Captain. As lor the Captain, be went to
tbe East Indies, I heard, aud died. That’s my
story, sir.” —Once a Week.
[From the Lynchburg Virginian. J
MBH. BASIL YVILLIAMBO.V
Death of a Venerable Virginia Matron—lntereHtlng
KeminUeencea.
The death of Mrs. Basil Williamson is
announced in the Charlestown, Jefferson
county, papers. She died in Tyler county,
at the advanced age of eighty-nine years.
In our early youth we often heard of her
in her ‘’dear Jefferson county” and ours,
but supposed that she had long since gone
to that “bourne whence no traveler re
turns ” The Charlestown Free Frees,
speaking of her decease, says :
This estimable lady is favorably and
affectionately remembered by many citi
zens of this and neighboring counties.
She was present at the christening of her
“dear Jefferson county,” as she always
called it a notice of which event is found
in Henning’s Justice: The commissioners
met at the house of Basil Williamson, and
adopted the name of the new county to be
Jefferson, etc., (in 1810, we believe.)
Mrs. Williamson was one of the first
settlers at Harper’s Ferry, after the death
of her great uncle, Robert Harper, the
earliest proprietor, who purchased the
laud from Lord Fairfax, the Baron Came
ron. She was a coternporary of the prom
inent persons of the lower valiey : General
Drake, Robert Rutherford, (both members
«>f Congress), Charles Yates, Gershom
Keyes, Johu Kearsley, the Dandridges,
Hunters, Pendletons, Davenports, Wash
ingtons, Humphreys, McCormicks, Sin
clairs, Baylors, Larues, Lees, Slaughters,
etc.
In eariy days she advised her sons and
other young friend* how they could make
themselves a name, by pointing to the
career of three lads who left Jefferson
(then Berkeley) to settle among the wild
Indians of the Northwestern Territory.
She said : “We were feasting and dancing
at the neighbors’ houses for a week before
these young men started, and when they
bade us farewell there was not a dry eye,
as we never expected to see them again,
thinking the Indians would slay them at
sight.” The names of these young men
have a place in history: Thomas Wor
thington, Edward Tiffin and Robert
Lucas, eacli of whom became Governor of
Ohio, and three of the counties of that
State bear their names. [Berkeley county
also furnished a Governor for Missouri In
the person of John Miller.]
Mrs. Williamson was a signer to the
deed to General Washington for the Har
per’s Ferry property fora national armory
—a spot selected by himself, and one
which, for that very reason, as well as for
its eligibility,should be held for that pur
pose only.
The reminiscences of thjs venerable lady
VOL. IX, NO ;jii
entertained many fireside a.semblu't. of
young and old. Her memorv will I.T-■ —i .
cherished with affection.
t»l T or- THK sTHKi: t -
[From the Banner of the South.
Out id the Streets comes the wail o: u
misery and heart desolation. Oat i- • .
the roads, out into the forests, and , ■ j„.
to the meadows, there is peace i
and happiness. Out there animat, d' .00
1 11 re sends up its thousand t,. : ~|~r . -
to Heaven and blesses the WOi j,| w U h it.
music, its fruits aud it. How. . n,u u „;
of the Streets comes that wuii nf.,, m >w
that sound of revelry, tli.u . ,1 h, ut
breaking misery Out of the-t
--the mansions,'into the gnu city wi h
its teaming populations, its grand palace.
its mighty wealth, theie is sin, and
row. and shame, and povert v aud wr 1 -
ling, and revelry, and silent'weeping ■ ,
iiidden wrongs: and the world km.a . :t .
not—the world sees it not. llut it is
and heard beyond the clouds, beyond ih
skii*s, beyond the stars, and its record . .
there.
Out of the Streets into the busy otli. •
the wealthy merchant com. . a Huh I. 1
gar girl. Rags are her clothing, shoes .he
has none, dishevelled is her hair. Her
poor mother lies helpless, prostt aleon a t.ed
of sickness; and the little wanderer -k-.
but a pittance to give that p or moth. 1
and the starving sisters and brother, a
morsel of bread to keep body aud ...id 1,
gether. Uti : n.u iu.e e piu r : , ...
silver, ami l.ank notes are not f..r.. ,»i,
women and children ; and so, with 1 >:>
words and threatening gestures, the nn
happy child goes out into the Street again
to tiring to her squalid home rehut!'
curses and tears. Aud out of the Slice
come the praises of the geuerous uierchun
whose charities till the paper, m 1
whose popularity is only hounded by hi.
wealth. The tears and the curses go out
of the Streets together, aud are record. 1
in the Book of Judgment.
Out of the Streets comes the sound of
wrangling, ami men gather together t\i 1
by stroug drink; and tvltli oaths, a; . (
shouts, aud blasphemies, make the niglu
hideous ; while the pistol, the bowie knife
or the dagger, sends its victim to his last’
account. And the oaths, and the shout
ami the blasphemies, and the lost soul
out of the Streets together, and are for .rot
ten here—but not up there.
Out of the Streets comes a moan of an
guish, from some woman’s voice. On. e
she was fair aud innocent—the and olin ' ..
her parents—“the angel of the household ’
Once she was theobjeclof atleclioti. “ The
old, old story is told again ;” and, debased
ruined, wretched, the unhappy creature'
now despised, put aside, buffeted about,'
feels her deep, deep woe, and sends up on e
moan of dreadful anguish ; while the dc
stroyer passes his victim, without a pang
of remorse, no thought of sorrow, no won)
of sympathy. The destroyer and the vi
tim shall stand together, some day, and
out of the Streets that moan of anguish
shall plead for justice.
Out of the Streets, up from ttie haunts
of vice, comes the sound of revelry ; and
debased men and abandoned women join
together in the lewd dance, the ribald
song, the rude jest ; or, over the “ flowing
bowl” sits aud sips the maudlin inebriate,
whose poor, neglected wife cower over
the scattered embers, by her midnigh l
lamp, while her starved and half-naked
little ones lie shivering beneath the scan
ty coverlid, trying to sleep away th
thoughts of want which crowd their little
brains; ami he drinks, and they starve,
aud she groans and pray, for help. Vnd’
that sound of revelry, that groan, the •
prayers, mingle together, and are no;
heard here ; but out of the Streets, above
the midnight sky, they will be separah
and they will be heard.
Out of the Streets, into the mighty
mansions of the great, there is strife aud
dissension, and family griefs. The wo.! ,
looks on the beautiful edifice, and the
world envies its inmates. But the world
knows not its history, its mystery —it.
hidden wrongs and its silent weepine
but beyond the stars, beyond the ken o
human vision, they are known and hear,:
111 & b LII.OV/ uo - „
ness, revelry, wrong, oppression. ai 1
vice; as out of the roads, out if tin
forests, out of the fields, will go up tin
sounds of joy, of peace, and of gludnes-i
and they shall be seen and judged. And
seen and judged, the wicked sbuil to umlo
ami the just rejoice.
So let us live, then, reader, Ui v hen
we go up out of the Streets of If, ~ it
shall he to the Streets of Eternal (Hot . ,
from the Mansions of Earth to tin- Man
sions of Eternal Mercy, from thoC tic of
Earth to the City of Eternal Bliss. It n
our power, our work, our duty Fail not
Falter not. Fear not, and away up out of
the Streets we will have our reward, our
triumph, and our glory.
Curkkncv. —During the first year of
the war, when change was scarce, and
some large merchants were issuing cur
rency of their own, a fanner wem to t
store in a neighboring town, nought some
goods and gave the merchant a five dollar
bill, of which he wanted seventy five
cents buck. The merchant counted out
the amount and handed it over to the
farmer. He looked at it a moment, and
inquired:
“What’s this?”
“It’s my currency,” said the merchant.
“Wal, ’tain’t good for nothin’where
live said the farmer.
“Very well,” replied the merchant,
“keep it until you get a dollar’s worth,
and bring it to my store, and I will giv.
yon a dollar for it.”
The farmer pocketed the change un i
departed. A few weeksifter he w.-nt in’o
the same store and bought goods to the
amount of one dollar, and after payin '
over the identical seventy-five cents, h
took out a handful of pumpkin seed--,
counted twenty-five of them, and pas < 1
them to the merchant.
“Why,” said the merchant, “what i
this?”
“Wal,” said the farmer, “this is my
currency, and when you get a dollar's
worth bring it to mv place and I will give
you a dollar for it.”
Freak* of a W hirlwind—A Brlrk Chur: h Destroy , and
Yesterday morning, about 9 o’clock, a
little brick church on the Hardin pike,
about eleven miles from the city, and sit
uated on a point where the road runs l •
tween two lofty hills, was literally blown
away, only about four feet of the walls be
ing left standing. The wind had been
pretty stormy all the morning, and many
trees had been blown down on the sur
rounding hills, but at the hour above
named a gust of wind swept along the
road, catching up in its sweeping progre
every detached object in the way, and
whirling them round as if they were a
horizontal cylinder; fence rails, branches
of trees, hunks of earlh, and even store
were hurled around l>y terial anger as i;
came along with irresistible force and in
conceivable rapidity. It struck the church
about four feet above the ground, rop- 1
ofT the bricks aud mortar, and swept tin
whole upper part away quite clean. A
few bricks were dropped along the road
for two or three hundred yards, but the
main portion was taken nearly half a mile
to where the road opened out on a wid ;
stretch of comparatively flat country, and
there dropped in the bed of a creek with
the roof still firmly attached lo the walls.
Two cows that had been to leeward of Un
building while it was yet standing were
knocked about twenty yards away into a
hollow. They seemed considerably stupe
fied, but otherwise sustained no dam-ug -.
tW District Attorney Carrington w
received no better at the barbecue at I
restville, Maryland, than was General
Kilpatrick in Butler’s district. The p.
pie of Prince George’s county feel the i
justice of the vindictive prosecution o'
John Surratt by the United Sat , - 1
when District Attorney Carrington a- •
to make his after-dinner speech ! > ’? •
handful of Radicals present, he was;"'
ed with cries of, Surratt ! Surratt D -m
the crowd. — E., in Baltimore 6 '
Suspension op Grain Horst -j
of the New York papers meritin’* r-.-v- ,
suspensions of houses eugag-d **i th>- - ’
trade, owing to the heavy r.-c.ine c
breadstuff's. The World s • . ‘
will fall chiefly on operators m tne net,
as the New York firms have >ee, r
ally cautious aud prtideu . - * “ t ‘
Thomas Griffin & Co-, of New \o k,
Daniel Newbail. of Milwaukee ; Helmer
& Cos., Milwaukee, and Helrnen, of Buf
falo.”